I am waiting for polyester clad Marxists
to take over Euro Disneyland,
their mustachios stained with wine.
I am waiting for one of the Walton's
to stay up and read during a special
hour long episode. I am waiting
to find that Ben Franklin bought something
frivolous, other than time. I am waiting
for the man in the back of the church to finally shout out
the apocalyptic obscenities he mumbles to himself.
I am waiting for a candy bar with the nuget
on the outside. I'm waiting for everyone with cowboy boots
to learn to ride horses. I am waiting for a listing
in the employment section to promise an accruing
self-worth account as part of the benefits package.
I am waiting for the 42 Bus to take me home.

I am waiting for a deodorant commercial to tell me
that I smell good. I am waiting for Miss Alaska
to admit that she longs for the excitement of war,
or that she doesn't truly long for anything
but perhaps a genuine sense of longing.
I am waiting for a goat footed old balloon
President who understands that
just because the hole is round, doesn't mean
he should stick his missile in it (read any way you like).
Or a President who can remember
his involvement in something bad -- like setting up a crack stands
to fund the Contras. Forget it... no, dude, wait,
or a President who realizes that smoking pot without inhaling
is like entering the Tour de France on a pogo stick.
I am waiting for Robin Leach to visit my apartment
and uncork his champagne bottle eyes.
I am waiting for a law that'll require Louis Rucheiser
and the bulls and bears of his round table
to speak in our national language (Ebonics will do).
I am waiting for my spell checker to recognize Ebonics.
Ivorics, like Microsoft, is a mean monopoly. I am waiting
for people to realize that you don't have to be smart
to get rich. You don't even need to work...
or have a product, as I detail in my fantastic new system....
I am waiting for people to realize that if everyone
became millionaires by placing few small ads, there would be
no newspapers. Lastly, I am waiting for people to realize that money really does grow on trees.

I am waiting for someone to discover
that hieroglyphics were transcribed by a dyslexic. I am waiting
for biblical historians to realize that Eden
was actually an ancient mall. I am waiting
for someone to find the lost Orson Wells manuscript
in which someone was sent back in time
to give Lady Macbeth a box of Cheer,
preferably the New Cheer. I am waiting for the death
of the fittest and for people to feel
the agony of victory.
Where the hell's my bus?

I am waiting for Cotillion to hold a "going back in" ball.
I am waiting for the AB-OMINATER --
a new fitness machine that will completely
eliminate the problematic midsection. What am I
waiting for -- poetic justice, or just my bus?
I am waiting for a Fourth
where people have the patience to wait
for a meteor shower, or where pirotechnicians
and alcoholics everywhere realize that April First
might be a better day for their celibations.
I am waiting for a veggie burger with a juicy meat filled center.
I am waiting for a perpetual motion machine
and a perpetual people to prove it.
I am waiting for someone to figure out who Nostradamus
picked for the Super Bowl. I am waiting to see if Christ
has the cajones to make his curtain call without them.
I am waiting for someone to realize that only
the androgynous aren't gender specific. I am waiting
to receive the warranty on my soul
from the World Harvest Church for my special love gift;
I'm still waiting for my chariot to arrive.

I am waiting for the Japanese to buy Pearl Harbor
and turn it into a yacht club with a restaurant
on the Arizona Memorial where families can sit
sipping kamikazes and getting bombed. I am waiting for Hawaii
and the women on the corner of Prospect and St. Clair
to stop handing out leis and saying aloha.
I am waiting for Tiger Beat to promote a boy band
of elephant children with braces and bad acne. I am waiting
for the end of the hostage situation, when Kodak
finally releases all the moments its captured. I am waiting for
an appraiser on The Antique Roadshow to realize that everything
is essentially priceless, as everything is as old as
everything else. I am waiting for the land of the free
to recognize the lands of the bound,
and to admit where the rope came from.
I am waiting for P.T Barnum
to realize that there are two thumbs born every minute
with each sucker... and that he was one of them.

I am waiting for the day when every state
has to announce an official soft drink. I am waiting
for an astronomer to realize that the dimensions
of our universe are in perfect proportion to a giant
petri dish. I am waiting for the death of the fashion
industry when nudity becomes groovy. In summation,
I'm anxiously awaiting my bus.

I am waiting for someone to realize that you
don't have to go anywhere to live deliberately,
or that Thoreau went to Emerson's to eat deliberately,
and finally that Ol' Yeller went to the woods, yes,
to die deliberately. I am waiting for days yet unborn,
futuristic Vonnegut days when highways will be preserved
as the monuments of our age. I am waiting
for Michael Eisner to appoint himself King and
change the capital to Disney World -- from whence he
could command his legions of cartoon mops. I am waiting for fatness
to become large, fatness and nudity, and for Jenny Craig
and Richard Simmons, as a naked, fat married couple
to lead the way with videos and Twinkies.
Chorus.